Put a Parka on It
by Scissors-is-a-Nerd
Summary: Kenny's parka is stolen by the FBI and he is forced to resort to whatever means necessary to get it back, because it's snowing outside and he's cold. Butters helps for some reason. Also why did I do this


**A/N How low have I sunken to write _South Park_ fanfiction smh**

* * *

Around the white trash town of South Park, Colorado, everything was dreary and everybody was unhappy, because they're always miserable and cold and half of them don't have noses or ears which really tends to be inconvenient sometimes. So everyone was always nasty.

This was the way things were today, save for one young boy.

"Whoo-hoo!" came the muffled cry of Kenny McCormick as he zipped down the halls of South Park Elementary. He ran to his two friends, Stan and Kyle, who were at their lockers.

"Whoa, you look happy today," Stan noticed.

Kenny waved a letter in the air excitedly, gripping the paper in his stubby hand. "Mmmfgh phhf mfff, mggfph pfhfhhf, fohpghh—" he started.

"Whoa! Slow down," said Kyle. "You got a letter? From the American-Romanian association of operatic singers, saying that you won an award?"

"Mmfpfh mpfhfh fft!" Kenny exclaimed in joy. He was going to be rich!

"Wow, that's cool," Stan congratulated with little enthusiasm. "Anyway did you guys want to head back to my house after school today to play video games or something?"

"Yeah, sure, that sounds fun," Kyle agreed as he took some stuff out of his locker.

Kenny frowned and waved around his letter again. "Mmph frrrr mphh _fffmmrfph_ , he emphasized."

"Yeah, we told you already, Kenny, that's cool," said Kyle.

"Mmphfh fhghfu phhhf!" Kenny yelled.

Stan gasped. "Whoa, man. You can't say that at school!"

Kenny reached toward them, but Stan and Kyle were already walking down the hall together, talking about stuff that didn't involve Kenny.

Kenny sadly let his arm fall to his side. He felt an arm on his shoulder.

"I-I know how you feel, Kenny," Butters said next to him. "Why, I think it's great that you got an—an oper award!"

"Mmpfs," Kenny thanked. "Mm ffr mph f mmmof ffif mfs f mph f mph?"

Butters gasped and thrust his tiny arms into the air giddily. "Come with you to get your award? Why Kenny McCormick, it would be my honor!"

"Mmk," said Kenny.

Butters dropped his arms. "By the way, what's an opera?"

* * *

After school Kenny dragged Butters to the facility where the letter had specified he should come, alone and unaccompanied, for whatever reason. The facility was large and empty and falling apart, like an abandoned warehouse.

"Yippee! This place is sure neeto," exclaimed Butters.

Kenny looked around. He didn't see anyone else there. Maybe they had come to the wrong place?

All of a sudden, a single bright light switched on overhead. Kenny and Butters lifted their arms to shield themselves from the light, which seemed to scatter dust through the air.

"We have located the target, sir," spoke a voice from some unknown location.

"There are _two_ children here! Should we tranquilize them both?" spoke another.

"Wait now…. Let's wait a second…" spoke another.

"Mmfh?" Kenny asked, confused.

"Kenny, you know, I think w-we might have come to the wrong place." Butters tugged on his sleeve. "We best be gettin out of here and—"

"Oh, no, you boys have come to the right place indeed." A man stepped out from the shadows and took a badge-wallet from his pocket. "Dan Davidson, FBI."

"FBI?" Butters screamed. "Oh, no! I'm definitely gonna get grounded! Oh, geez oh geez!"

Kenny put his mittened hand over Butters's mouth and looked up at the FBI agent. "Mfhfph mfphfh f ffh, fphfh mph ffmp," he requested.

The agent spoke into an earpiece. "The boy has agreed to cooperate. Commence with the tranquillization."

Kenny looked surprised. "Mph, umph?"

"Aah!" Butters yelled. He grabbed onto Kenny as they both searched around desperately for a means of escape.

Out from the darkness came three more FBI agents who began firing wildly at the children. Miraculously, each and every bullet managed to hit Kenny. Kenny fell to the ground half-lidded, blood pooling on the ground alarmingly.

Butters shrieked. "OH JESUS! HE'S DEAD!"

Dan Davidson's eyes widened. "Oh my god, you killed him!" He turned to his gunmen. "You bastards! Those were assault rifles, not tranquilizing guns! Oh, well. It's too late now. Quick, men, apprehend the parka." He looked off in the distance. "No human being should be trusted with something so dangerous—except the FBI, of course. Get it in the briefcase, now!"

Butters was still screaming.

He pushed open the doors behind him and started running as fast as he could. His legs felt like they were going to explode and his lungs felt like they would burst, but he kept running and screaming, so much screaming, all the way home.

* * *

The next morning at the bus stop, Kenny sadly trudged through the snow to stand by Kyle and Stan. He looked at the ground sadly and let out a sigh.

Stan and Kyle paused their conversation and glanced at him. "Whoa, dude, aren't you cold?" asked Stan.

"Yeah," said Kenny. "Freezing."

"What happened to your parka?" asked Kyle.

"Stolen," said Kenny. "Don't have any more at home cause they were all destroyed."

"How were they destroyed—" Kyle started to ask, but a harsh glare from Kenny said _I don't want to talk about it_.

Well. Kenny actually meant the glare to mean _Isn't it a little obvious you dipshits_ but same principle. He looked down again.

Stan and Kyle were worried for him. If they knew anything about Kenny, there wasn't anything he loved more than his orange parka. Except maybe being a princess. And playing video games. And his little sister. And singing opera. And anything remotely sexual.

…Huh. Actually there was a substantial amount of stuff. Kenny could move past this.

"H-hey, fellas!" Butters called, bounding up to them. He stopped to catch his breath. "H-how y'all doin?"

"Oh, hey, Butters," Stan greeted unexcitedly. "Whatcha doing here?"

"I m-missed my other bus," he said. "My parents grounded me again yesterday cause I was out playin too long. Don't have the darndest memory as to why. Guess I was out playin so hard I just near forgot where I was!"

Kenny frowned.

Butters focused on him. He tilted his head, confused. "Hey—" he started to ask, but then the bus came so the four of them had to get on. Cartman was not with them, because the author hates him and prefers to ignore his existence because she thinks if the show did it too it would enhance its quality by approximately 10,000%, much like removing one's head from up their ass enhances their ability to breathe correctly and smell the fresh air and hear the birds sing.

And so, seeing as Cartman has yet to remove his head from his ass, he is gone from this world. Oh well. Moving on.

* * *

"A-and so then Clyde just starts asking every single kid at school where the firecrackers went, but nobody told them that Craig had taped them onto the back of his head! They both got in trouble!" Kyle was saying at lunch that day. Everyone at the table laughed.

"And then the firecrackers went off!" Stan added. "And then there was this whole musical number…. And then ferrets overtook the building."

"Man, I can't believe I missed that," Kenny said sorrowfully.

"Yeah, Mr. Mackey was so stressed about it he went on vacation," said Stan.

"Where?" Kenny asked. "Florida? Hawai'i?"

"Ooh, I've been to Hawai'i," Butters informed him.

Kenny looked at him.

Butters looked back.

"So anyway, guys, let's play video games after school," Kenny decided.

"Yeah, okay," said Kyle.

As they chatted, Butters turned to Stan and whispered in his ear, "Who's the new guy?"

"New guy? What new guy, Butters?" said Stan. "Some imaginary friend of yours?"

"Ohh, I sure hope not." Butters twiddled his fingers together. If his parents found out he had an imaginary friend, he would get grounded for sure!

On the other hand, this fella didn't seem to be imaginary. Other people were interacting with him. Still, Butters had the inkling that he'd seen him from somewhere. He wondered and wondered all day.

 _Oh! I know who it is!_ Butters realized in the middle of a math lesson. _How could I forget such a distinct face? It's my—or rather, **Professor Chaos's** —arch-nemesis, Mysterion! Now what's he doing in a little school like this, posing as a student while he plots to do good somehow?_ He fidgeted with his hands mischievously. _Foolish Mysterion, don't you know that whatever do-gooder plans you have, Professor Chaos will always find a way to foil them!_

Poor Butters, with his poor memory, had forgotten completely that the identity of his arch-nemesis was someone else in truth, and followed him sneakily all throughout the school till he caught him by himself on the playground at recess. Butters hid behind a bush and got on his Professor Chaos outfit (he always had a spare one handy in his backpack for occasions like these), then pounced on Kenny.

"Mua ha ha ha ha! I have finally caught you, Mysterion!" he cackled.

Kenny pushed him off. "I don't want to play superheroes right now, Butters."

Butters gasped. "B-Butter—? I-I don't know who you are talking about!" _Oh, hamburgers! How does he know my secret identity?_ "Mysterion, let us do battle!"

"Butters, shut it!" Kenny said through his teeth. "My sister's on this playground!"

"I'm not Butters! I'm Professor Chaos!" Butters declared. "And Mysterion must—"

"Mysterion's not here right now!" Kenny whispered. But then a thought crossed his mind. "Maybe…. Maybe Mysterion _is_ what I need right now. Maybe my problem is a job for Mysterion." He started to pace. "Then again, could always just _buy_ a new jacket…. No, I have no money. I'll just have to resort to stealing it back from the FBI."

"Uh… yeah!" Butters agreed. "But I'll stop you, Mysterion!"

"Maybe don't," asked Kenny. "I'm really cold. And I miss my jacket."

"Okay then, uh…." Butters twiddled his fingers together. "Then I, Professor Chaos, shall come with you to the FBI, because, because uh… down with the government!"

"What?" said Kenny. "Butters, that—that's dangerous. You could get seriously hurt."

"The FBI can't hurt Professor Chaos!" Butters announced.

Kenny pondered this. Butters may have been onto something. As Mysterion, he'd have an added layer of mystery to boost his cover. "You sure you want to do this, Butters? This isn't a game, you know. It's a matter of jacket… or no jacket."

Butters narrowed his eyes and grinned. "Oh, I'm in."

"All right." Kenny nodded seriously. "But we have to make a stop first."

* * *

The stop was at his house. Kenny had to get his Mysterion outfit.

"Oh, I know this place," Butters remarked, taking note of the abandoned SoDoSoPa. "My-my-my parents used to go there."

"…'Kay," said Kenny, entering his house. Butters followed after them.

As Kenny walked up to his room, Butters stopped in the doorway, shocked at what he took in. He couldn't believe the state Mysterion's house was in—the broken windows, exposed sofa strings, sparse furnishing, crying children, screaming parents, broken beer glasses strewn everywhere.

"You coming, Butters?" Kenny asked.

"Uh-y-yeah, I'm comin." Butters hurried along.

"Kenny!" his mother screamed from the bottom of the staircase. "Get yer ass back down here and tell yer father he's a good-fer-nothin drunkard!"

"Yer a good-fer-nothin drunkard!" Stuart bellowed back.

"I dare you tah say that to my face, you pigeon-fucker!" she screamed, grabbing a beer bottle from off the floor. She lifted it above Stuart's head.

Kenny turned away. Butters took the cue and did so as well, covering his hands over his mouth.

"Mommy, stop it!" begged Kenny's sister.

"Shut it, Karen, or yer gonna get it too," snapped his mom.

Kenny pursed his lips and took Butters into his room.

When the door was closed, Butters took his hands off his mouth and exclaimed, "Kenny?!"

"Yeah, what?" asked Kenny.

"Oh. Uh." Butters looked around awkwardly. "Nothin."

Another awkward silence.

"So, uh… where'd your parka go?"

Kenny smacked his hand to his forehead.

"Oh…. Oh, right." Butters looked down, feeling embarrassed that he hadn't put two and two together. "G-gee, Kenny, I'm awful sorry about your parents."

"It's ok Butters, it's not like anyone can help it."

"Bu-bu-but that's horrible!" he sputtered.

"Eh. You learn to ignore it after awhile," said Kenny. "I mean, I still kinda hate 'em. It's like a fatal infection. You can put a parka over it and pretend it's not there, but every day it kind of eats away at you, destroying your body from the inside out till there's nothing left of you but a hollow shell of your old self who can only so much as speak in muffle, waiting in anxiety for the next inevitable moment that a truck will fly out of nowhere and kill you. And then your friends will be all like 'Where's Kenny' and then one of them will be all like 'Oh I think he's dead' and then Stan will say 'Oh my god they killed Kenny' and then Kyle will point to the sky and say 'You bastards!' and you think for a second that at last you've been granted release of this horrible torturous world but no, you just wake up in your bed like normal, with the same nasty parents and the same nasty life, and then you just have to start back from square one and put a parka over it.

"So… yeah, it's kind of like that. Buuut my parka's gone now."

"Oh. Oh boy, that's rotten," Butters agreed after a second. He didn't look like he heard everything Kenny said. "But I can sure understand. My parents ground me all the time, it gets me so angry! Not to mention wuh-one time my mom tried to drown me alive! But that wasn't nearly as bad as the time my folks chained me up in the basement and tried to feed me a dead home designer b-because they thought I was demon-spawn! Or the time my dad send me to a conversion therapy camp! But that place wasn't so bad cause I made lots a good friends there. Oh, oh—or whenever my grandma visits. She beats me up a lot and makes me feel so bad sometimes, but I can't tell my parents or else they won't even believe me or they might ground me also. I have nightmares about her almost every night," he added cheerily.

Kenny stared at him in horror. "Holy fuck."

"Wuh-wow." Butters smiled. "I haven't told nobody that ever, but it feels awful good to get it out!"

"Holy fuck Butters what the fuck? How long has this been happening? That's horrible!"

"Oh, it's all good," said Butters with a smile. "Deep down I know my parents love me lots! After all you get used to it. There's a little trick I got, you see, where you just gotta stuff down all the bad feelings till ya barely feel nothin but happy! And ready to help anybody who needs ya!" He did a happy twirl. "Kinda like your parka!"

Kenny kept staring at him in horror, his mouth in this disfigured gasping shape, not the triangle mouth, you know which one I mean (you do).

"Is—is that why you became a villain, Butters? To spite your parents?"

"Oh, not at all," Butters told him. "I became a villain because my heart turned dark after—after Stan and Kyle and Eric dumped me as a friend! After they exploited me and then left me to fend for myself, not an ally in the world!"

"By 'they,' do you mean Cartman specifically? Wait." Kenny looked confused. "When did that happen?"

"Oh, you don't remember?" Butters tapped his chin. "Huh. Well that's odd. Where were you around that time? Come to think of it, they did dress me up a lot to look like you, but I don't have the slightest idea why. Or where you were."

"Oh," Kenny realized. "I was probably dead."

"Oh, yeah, that must have been it, you were dead—Wait, DEAD? Oh, Jesus! You couldn't have been dead! What kinda a cruel joke is that, Kenny?"

Kenny was silent. He frowned at him. "I die _all the time_ , Butters."

Butters gasped in horror.

"I died yesterday at the abandoned warehouse. _You were there_. I got shot eleven times in the chest, and sixteen times in the face. Then you screamed. A _lot_. And the FBI took my parka."

"Whuh-whuh—" Butters clutched his head. "I don't remember any of that!"

"Of course you don't!" Kenny exclaimed. "Nobody remembers!" He went to his dresser and dug around a stack of papers on the top till he brought out a picture. "You don't even remember this, Butters? The picture you drew me when I was dying in the hospital from muscular dystrophy?" He handed it over.

Butters smiled. "O-oh I remember this. 'Me and my friend Kenny.' You kept it all this time?"

Kenny put it back on the dresser. "Point of the matter is, nobody ever remembers. And nobody ever believes me." He threw his arms down in exasperation.

Butters put a hand on his shoulder. "I-I believe you."

"You believe everything anyone tells you," said Kenny.

Butters was silent. That much was true.

"No offense, Butters, but you're super gullible. For god's sake, you believed _Cartman_ when he said the apocalypse had come."

"Wuh-well he was really convincin—"

" _Nobody_ believes Cartman. Every word that comes out of his mouth is a lie. It's, like, common sense for everybody except you."

Butters twiddled his knuckles together. Tears welled in his eyes. He sniffled. "A-are you sayin' you're lyin' too?"

"Well—no. Not me," said Kenny. "Why would I lie about something like this? I just don't think you _really_ believe me."

"N-no, I do!" Butters insisted. "To be honest, it makes a lot of sense. And besides, that's what friends do. They believe each other. Just like you believed me about all the stuff I told you 'bout my parents." He smiled. "A-and I won't believe Eric no more. H-he's no friend of mine. He's just a—just a—" He mustered all his strength for the biggest swear yet. "—a butthole! There, I said it. That's what he is. A big butthole."

Kenny had no reaction.

"S-see, Kenny, I'll even write it down, what you told me, so I won't forget it ever," Butters assured him. He whipped out a notebook and pen from out of nowhere and scribbled on it, sounding out, "Kenny… McCormick… your… friend… can't die…. And there we go! A fool-proof plan!"

Kenny nodded. That was decently smart.

Butters smiled and tucked the note in his pocket. "Kenny, can I ask you somethin?"

"Sure."

"Why did you become Mysterion?" He tilted his head at the questions. "By all accounts, y-you should've become a villain, with your heart and soul filled with darkness! But ya didn't. How come?"

Kenny looked down. "I became Mysterion so… I could protect those who can't protect themselves."

Butters gasped. "Fellas like me?"

"Well… I was actually thinking of my sister Karen in this case."

They avoided eye contact for a moment.

"Uhh… let's go infiltrate the FBI," said Kenny.

"Yeah! The FBI," Butters agreed.

* * *

After Kenny had gotten on his Mysterion outfit, he and Butters searched on the internet for the nearest FBI headquarters. Surprisingly it wasn't that hard to locate, but eh, that's what happens when you're a lazy writer trying to move the story along.

"So here's the entrance to the secret government facility…. It was in the Whole Foods dairy section all along," said Kenny in his Mysterion voice. He clenched his fist dramatically. "I should have guessed it." He turned to Butters. "Professor Chaos, I hate having to work together with you on this, but I suppose only the two of us can purge the FBI from this town."

"Y-yes, Mysterion, I also think it will be a pain working with you, my arch-nemesis," Butters agreed.

They smiled at each other.

"To the Whole Foods!" Kenny declared.

They sneaked out of the house, running past Kenny's parents who were still fighting so they didn't notice them, and ran all the way to the Whole Foods Market. When no customers were looking, they dashed toward the dairy section and entered the door flaps that lead to the back storage room.

"Somewhere around here we should find the secret door," Kenny whispered to Butters.

Butters scanned the area. "There!" He pointed at a suspicious man wearing a dark suit. The man looked to either side of himself and, when the coast was clear, he pushed aside a large crate of milk cartons to reveal a dark space, which he stepped into.

"That must be it," said Kenny. "Quick, Professor Chaos! Before he puts the crate back!"

"Hey, you kids can't play in here," said another man in a dark suit, noticing them.

Butters looked at Kenny. They both looked up at the man in the dark suit in fright.

Butters kicked him in the crotch.

"AAUGH!" The man screamed and fell to the ground in immense pain.

"Now!" Butters yelled. He and Kenny ran behind the crate of milk cartons, and the black void engulfed them.

* * *

They walked through the black void for quite some time until finally a light materialized before them. The man in the dark suit they had followed came to a large metal door and inputted a password. The door opened and Butters and Kenny followed him within. Beyond the door was a large room with many computers and large screens and many agents wandering about. Kenny grabbed Butters's arm and dragged him behind some contraption.

"So you see, Agent Davidson, that's why testing hasn't been going so well," said a voice.

"Dan Davidson!" Kenny whispered, shaking Butters by the collar. "He's the one who stole my parka!"

"Whuh-w-okay then, what should we do, Mysterion?" Butters asked.

"We need to find out where they're hiding it," he answered. "And then steal it back."

A fool-proof plan indeed.

"What's the issue with testing?" asked Agent Davidson.

"Well, you see sir," said the other man, "nobody will go near the device. The agents are scared, sir."

"They're all a bunch of pussies," Davidson spat. "I'll talk some sense into 'em."

He walked up to a seemingly bare metal wall, where he yelled, "Attention agents!" and dropped his fist against a large red button that caused the metal wall to recede upward, exposing a thick glass wall that held Kenny's orange parka. "Evidently you wusses refuse to investigate our new weapon on the test subjects!"

"W-well, sir," spoke up a voice in the crowd, "th-there have been rumors going around. Th-that the weapon is cursed. We all heard terrible things will happen to us if we touch it."

"Obviously!" yelled Agent Davidson. "That's the point of weaponry! They make bad things happen. And we have to find out just _what_ it can do before we use it for military purposes!"

"They're going to use… my parka for military purposes?" Kenny was confused. "But why?"

"D-didn't you hear, Kenny? I mean Mysterion?" Butters asked. "Your parka's cursed!"

"Wow… I never knew…." Kenny touched his chin in thought.

"Y-yeah. M-maybe that's why ya go dyin' all the time!" Butters speculated. "B-because your parka is cursed or somethin!"

"No, it's not that," said Kenny. "It's actually quite a different story."

"W-well maybe it's just at fault for makin ya get hurt a lot?" he tried.

"Hey… yeah, that might be it," said Kenny. "That's actually a really smart idea, Butters! Maybe it was my parka that was at fault for all my unforeseen accidents! Maybe without it, I'll just have the luck of a normal person! Maybe…. Maybe I'm better off without it!"

Just as he said this, a cable from the ceiling snapped, releasing a thin ceiling panel the fell vertically to the ground, cleanly slicing off Kenny's arm.

Butters covered his mouth in horror. Kenny just frowned and said, "Fuck."

"OH JESUS YOUR ARM FELL OFF—" Butters screamed. Kenny covered his mouth with his hand as blood squirted from his shoulder.

"You'll blow our cover, idiot," he reprimanded. "There's no point to letting them have my parka anymore. I'm taking out all the stops."

He also took out a gun.

Butters gasped again. "Where did you get that?" he whispered.

"I always have a spare gun in my Mysterion outfit," Kenny answered, like it was obvious. He shot at the panel of glass that concealed his parka and the protective wall shattered before all the agents.

"Y-you did it, Mysterion! Good job!" Butters congratulated—but Kenny had passed out on the floor due to severe blood loss. Butters looked around nervously. After the gunshot, the FBI agents had realized someone had infiltrated their base, and now they had surrounded Butters and Kenny in vast numbers.

Butters twiddled his knuckles together anxiously. His ally was down. At this point, the mission was all up to him. He ran through a space in the wall of agents around him—it was easy since he was so small—and grabbed Kenny's parka from where it had fallen on the ground in the pile of shattered glass.

"Get the child! He has the super weapon!" Agent Davidson commanded.

"No, sir, we cannot…" said another agent. "Don't you recognize him? That's Professor Chaos! He's the villain who almost flooded the world on national television!"

"Uh… um…. Yeah! That's right!" Butters said. "A-and I can destroy this facility, too!" He pointed Kenny's parka at the agents menacingly. They yelped and stepped back. "I've got the parka and I'm not afraid to use it!"

"Oh, god, we're done for!" an agent wept.

"You idiots, fighting supervillains is what we trained for!" said Agent Davidson. He stepped toward Butters threateningly, rolling up the sleeves of his suit. He opened a panel in the wall and withdrew a machine gun from it, fixing on Butters as his target. Butters gasped.

Agent Davidson began firing. Butters squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the painful crush of death. But when he opened his eyes, he was totally fine. Instead, in front of him he saw Mysterion—Kenny—who had briefly awakened from his unconscious state to jump in front of Butters at the last minute and take the blow.

"O-oh my god!" Butters gasped. "Y-you killed Kenny! You b-b-bastards!"

Agent Davidson reloaded the machine gun. Butters yelped.

He ran to the entrance of the facility, jumped back in the dark tunnel, and started running as fast as his little paper-cutout legs could carry him. He kept running and screaming, so much screaming, all the way home.

* * *

The next day at school, during lunch, Kenny sat by himself, still with no parka. He let out a sigh and picked up his sandwich, which was just two slices of bread with nothing in between.

"H-hey, Kenny." Butters sat down next to him with his lunch tray.

"Hey," said Kenny.

Butters sipped on his chocolate milk thoughtfully. He glanced at Kenny. He sipped again.

"Y-you died yesterday, didn't you?"

Kenny's lips peeled into a smile. "You don't remember."

"No," Butters confessed. "I don't."

Kenny nodded. He sighed. He played with his hands. Butters twiddled his knuckles.

"You know," thought Kenny aloud, "fuck the FBI. I think I'm just going to buy a new parka."

"O-oh! That reminds me!" Butters dug through his backpack. "You really shouldn't do that." He brought out Kenny's parka. It had a couple of holes in it and was a little more tattered than he last remembered, but still in one piece.

Kenny grinned. "My parka! You got it!"

"O-of course I did," said Butters. "Don't remember how in the world I did it, but it's here now, and it's safe. So there ya go."

Kenny smiled down at his parka. He gave Butters a sideways glance. "Hey Butters?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time you get grounded… maybe you should give Mysterion a call."

Butters smiled. "Y-yeah. Yeah! I think I'll do that."


End file.
